Page 42 of The Billionaire's Cinderella

“You know,” he says, his voice turning velvety as he comes closer, “I’m a great admirer of yours.”

My cheeks flush with pleasure. “Oh, really?”

“Really.” He gives me a thorough once-over, eyes glittering now. Even more intriguing? The way he slowly begins to unbutton his wet shirt. “Smart. Sexy. Funny. Accomplished. Hardworking. Insanely creative. I’m beginning to think there’s nothing you can’t do.”

“I’m not sure you’d want to put me in charge of your next real estate deal,” I say, watching as he peels the shirt off and drops it to the floor before toeing off his shoes and going to work on his belt and zipper. He’s quite the specimen, all bronzed flesh and flexing muscles. All within easy reach of my eager hands.

“We complement each other. I’ve got the real estate world conquered. You’ve got creativity conquered. I’m an entrepreneur. You’re an entrepreneur. We’re a good team.”

“Hmm, sorry, what did you say?” I say, trailing my fingers over the hard slabs of his chest. I just love the way goosebumps erupt all over his skin every time I do that. “I got distracted.”

My distraction level gets much worse when he divests himself of his pants, revealing blue boxer briefs and a straining erection. I lick my lips. I can’t help it. I’m like Pavlov’s dog at this point. Then I flick my gaze back to his and discover him watching me with gleaming eyes.

“I said, I want to take a closer look at the rest of the apartment,” he says, dipping his head to kiss me as he backs me toward the bedroom.

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